The third song is the cradle-song of death which all men
know,-"Swing low, sweet chariot,"--whose bars begin the
life story of "Alexander Crummell." Then there is the song
of many waters, "Roll, Jordan, roll," a mighty chorus with
minor cadences. There were many songs of the fugitive like
that which opens "The Wings of Atalanta," and the more
familiar "Been a-listening." The seventh is the song of the End
and the Beginning--"My Lord, what a mourning! when the
stars begin to fall"; a strain of this is placed before "The
Dawn of Freedom." The song of groping--"My way's
cloudy"--begins "The Meaning of Progress"; the ninth is
the song of this chapter--"Wrestlin' Jacob, the day is
a-breaking,"--a paean of hopeful strife. The last master song
is the song of songs--"Steal away,"--sprung from "The
Faith of the Fathers."
There are many others of the Negro folk-songs as striking
and characteristic as these, as, for instance, the three strains
in the third, eighth, and ninth chapters; and others I am sure
could easily make a selection on more scientific principles.
There are, too, songs that seem to be a step removed from the
more primitive types: there is the maze-like medley, "Bright
sparkles," one phrase of which heads "The Black Belt"; the
Easter carol, "Dust, dust and ashes"; the dirge, "My moth-
er's took her flight and gone home"; and that burst of melody
hovering over "The Passing of the First-Born"--"I hope my
mother will be there in that beautiful world on high.
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